


You're Canny in Deed and in Name

by bertie456 (bertee)



Series: Bones: You're Lovely to Me [16]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456





	You're Canny in Deed and in Name

As a child, Angela Montenegro's favorite game was Mouse Trap.

This wasn't due to some strange fascination for imprisoning colored plastic rodents in cages, but rather because she loved the devious complexity involved in the catching of the mouse. All the pieces of the trap had to be assembled in the correct order, and then through one tiny movement, the whole glorious mechanism sprang to life, coming together to achieve the desired goal. Namely, trapping the mice.

However, as she strolled round the inaugural Jeffersonian Christmas fair, she had much bigger things to trap than a mouse.

After watching her best friend and her partner dance around the issue of romance for over two years, Angela had decided to take action. She'd tried cajoling Brennan, pointing out that Booth was single, available, and pretty damn hot, but to no avail. She'd left the two of them alone at every opportunity, but so far they had made as many moves as a narcoleptic sloth. Hell, she'd even helped to organise the Jeffersonian Halloween party, in the hopes that seeing his partner dressed in little more than a corset, boots and panties would inspire Booth to cross that infuriating line, but they'd still avoided the inevitable.

But no more. She'd had enough of amateur schemes and subtle ploys; it was time to bring out the big guns.

Glancing around the bustling lawns of the Jeffersonian, she smiled to herself, mentally recalling all the parts of her grand plan and feeling a sense of satisfaction at her endeavor. Much like Mouse Trap, all the pieces were in place, and when Booth and Brennan had arrived, the carefully thought out trap had come into action.

Standing between a candy cane and a carrot-munching donkey, she surveyed the fruits of her labor, recalling the ease with which the first two phases had been accomplished.

 _Phase 1: Have a friendly discussion with Mary Thompson, senior receptionist and working mother known for her vocal opinions on the lack of childcare provision at the Jeffersonian. Coincidentally, stage this discussion outside the pathology lab, and ensure the words "Christmas", "family time", "lack of understanding" and "official complaint" are mentioned as Dr Saroyan walks past._

 _Phase 2: Wait for Dr Saroyan to approach the board. Wait for the board to ask Hodgins to fund a Jeffersonian family Christmas fair. Offer to help out with the arranging of said fair. Gain full control of the planning team. Suppress a "Mwahaha" of victory._

Angela looked around with a smile, seeing that her planning had obviously paid off and that parents, children and other attendees seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the afternoon fair. There was a light sprinkling of artificial snow on the ground and trees, and stalls littered the the gardens, offering the chance to feed the donkey, have your fortune told by the Ghost of Christmas Future, decorate gingerbread men and other such family-oriented activities. Her smile widened as she saw a small blond child leap off the bouncy castle to rejoin his father, before the pair of them walked across the lawn, contented grins on both their faces.

"Daddy, can I go on again?" Parker asked with excitement, still bouncing despite the lack of castle.

Booth looked down at his son, saying teasingly, "You said you wanted to get off a minute ago."

Parker nodded, evidently not seeing the problem. "Yeah, because my tummy felt all icky, but now it doesn't, and I want to go back on." He looked up at his father hopefully. "Please?"

Fully aware that the consumption of three and a half heavily-iced gingerbread people did not go well with repeated bouncing, Booth looked around for a better alternative. "How about you go back on the bouncy castle after we've been to that stall over there?"

He hoisted his son into his arms and pointed to an as yet unvisited stall on the opposite side of the garden, offering people the chance to dress up like shepherds, angels and other figures from the Nativity. One glance at the tinsel halos and Parker was sold. "I want to be an angel, Daddy." Taking that as a yes, Booth made his way through the crowds while his son contemplated the alternative. "Or a wise man, because they get to wear a crown and have Frankenstein."

"Frankincense, bub," Booth corrected with a grin. The boy looked at him, puzzled, and he explained, "It's like a perfume. It smells nice."

"Oh." He thought for a moment, weighing up the exchange of a big green monster for perfume, before concluding, "I don't want to be a wise man any more."

Reaching the stall, the agent deposited the child on the straw-covered ground and peered in the hamper of clothes. "So, an angel, right Park?" He rummaged briefly through the hamper, retrieving a pair of glittery wings and a circle of gold tinsel, before turning back to his son and barely containing a snort of laughter.

"I'm a shepherd!" Parker announced triumphantly, having come to this conclusion by placing a checkered towel over his head and balancing a toy sheep on his shoulder in the way a pirate would carry a parrot.

Chuckling, Booth crouched in front of him, dropping the angel wings and halo by his feet as he rearranged the towel so that the child could at least see. "That's better." He looked at his son's face, pinching his nose teasingly, "Hmm, maybe not."

"Daddy..." Parker chided, laughing, and Booth busied himself with fastening a band around the boy's head to hold the towel in place. Done, he turned his attention to Dolly.

"I don't think shepherds carry sheep on their shoulders, kiddo."

He pouted. "But I want to." Inspiration dawned. "Can I be a magic shepherd?"

Unable to say no to any idea, no matter how ridiculous, when it was accompanied by his son's delighted grin, Booth nodded in resignation. "Alright. You can be Old McParker, the sheep-carrying, magic shepherd."

"Old McParker?"

Both father and son looked up to see Brennan standing over them, an amused if slightly perplexed smirk on her face.

 _Phase 3: Ensure there is a dress-up stall. Brennan will be drawn to it like a moth to an anthropologically interesting flame. Booth's son will also be drawn to it, because he is five and easily entertained._

"Bones!" Booth was on his feet in a flash, a grin spreading across his face. "Wow, I, uh, I didn't think this would be your sort of thing."

"It's fascinating," she answered with the utmost sincerity. "Taking a culturally significant motif such as the Nativity and watching how people interact with it in different ways is very revealing."

Old McParker yawned. Loudly.

Despite agreeing with his son's reaction, manners came first and Booth squeezed his son's shoulder, saying warningly, "Parker..."

"Sorry," the boy replied sheepishly, before turning his attention, somewhat ironically, back to the sheep on his shoulder.

Booth, however, had more important things to turn his attention to. "So how come you're not dressed up, Bones? Shouldn't you be "immersing yourself in the culture" and all that?"

She shrugged, missing his sarcasm. "I would, but apparently it's inappropriate to dress up as Mary, and there are a surprising lack of other female figures in the Nativity scene, which itself implies that in the Biblical view, the role of women is to be a mother, and little else."

Deciding that the spirit of Christmas did not cover getting into a heated religious debate with your partner in front of your son/mini-shepherd, Booth let it go, instead picking up the wings and tinsel from the ground and waving them temptingly. "You could always be an angel..."

"Actually, despite the feminine appearance given in paintings, the Archangel Gabriel was supposedly a male," Brennan said matter-of-factly, clearly proud of the knowledge she had gained during her stint as the dress-up stall's resident anthropologist. "Most Biblical angels were also male."

Booth sighed. "I'm not asking you to be a Biblical angel. I'm just giving you a pair of fairy wings." He gave her his most persuasive smile. "Come on... If you're going to be standing here all afternoon, you should really be in costume..."

Just as Brennan looked like she was wavering, Parker tugged sharply on his father's sleeve. "You have to dress up too, Daddy."

 _Phase 4: Buy that child his body weight in candy if he actually persuades Booth and/or Brennan to wear a costume._

Booth closed his eyes, wishing his son had kept his ever-helpful mouth shut, but a grin spread across Brennan's face as she repeated, teasingly, "Yeah, _Daddy_. What are you going to wear?"

Sighing, Booth placed the gold tinsel-halo around his head and looked at his partner challengingly, "Happy now?"

Parker's giggle answered for her. However, her smugness was short lived as he pulled the fairy wings from his father's grip and held them up to her with a broad smile. "Your turn!"

Seeing the cocky smile playing on her partner's lips, Brennan reluctantly donned the wings, saying through gritted teeth, "Thank you Parker."

Oblivious to her insincerity, he beamed at her. "You're welcome."

Before either Booth or Brennan could reply, the loudspeakers in the garden crackled into life, and a deep, jolly voice sounded over the tannoy system.

 _Phase 5: Announce the three-legged race when they are together. Use Zach as the announcer, because he does an eerily accurate Santa Claus impression._

"The adult three-legged race will be starting in three minutes next to the rosebushes. Children, don't forget to encourage your parents to enter, as the prize for winning will be a complete collection of Cybertron Transformers. Good luck to everyone, and have a Merry Christmas. Ho ho ho!"

 _Phase 6: Warn Zach not to go overboard with the Santa impression. Be grateful that your boyfriend has the complete collection of Cybertron Transformers and was willing to donate them to a worthy cause. Be safe in the knowledge that no male, whether five or thirty-five, can resist the lure of Transformers._

"Daddy, please will you enter? Please, please, please..."

Temperance frowned in confusion, unsure of what had caused the previous tranquil child to suddenly start jumping up and down in excitement. "What are Transformers?"

Upon hearing the words, Parker turned to her, launching into a mostly incomprehensible explanation, "They're robots who look like normal things, but then you use the Cyber-key and they become real robots and have guns and shoot things. And the Autobots always win but sometimes the Decepticons get real strong and have really big robots, because Megatron is really bad. But then the Mini-Cons-"

"They're toys that change shape," Booth interrupted, recognising the look of total bafflement that he knew he so often wore in the lab. "Parker likes them."

"Me and Daddy play with them whenever I go to his house," Parker announced happily and Brennan raised her eyebrows.

Feeling slightly panicked, Booth defended himself, "Hey, they're not mine. They just live in the toy box at my house because his mom doesn't know how they work." Seeing the skeptical look on her face, he quickly changed the subject, turning to face his son. "Sorry, buddy, but I can't enter. You need two people for a three legged race, because I've only got two legs."

"Dr Brennan has legs," Parker astutely noted, before adding in the world's loudest whisper, "Ask if you can use hers."

Booth gaped for a moment, unsure what to say to his partner or son that would mean a happy resolution to this situation. Seeing this, Parker decided to do the job himself, "Dr Brennan, will you be in the race with my Daddy?"

 _Phase 7: Trust in the fact that the persuasiveness of an adorable child can overcome all forms of public embarrassment and personal intimacy issues. Even for Brennan._

"I, um, I-" He looked up at her, eyes wide and lower lip beginning to tremble. The word left her mouth before she could stop it. "Okay."

Parker cheered, and grabbed both adults by the hand, leading them out of the dress-up stall and to the start line, still decked out in wings, tinsel and a kitchen towel. The sheep, however, had bitten the dust during the earlier Transformers excitement.

 _Phase 8: Place the start line near the dress-up stall. That way, neither of them have time to change their mind. Also, enlist Jim Unwin, aka Scoutmaster Jim, to help with the three legged race preparations._

Upon reaching the start line, Booth and Brennan were both slightly surprised to find a man binding their ankles tightly together without any warning. The anthropologist winced as the blue rope dug into her right ankle, and the man, presumably Scoutmaster Jim, gave an apologetic grin, "Sorry about that, Dr Brennan. Just got to make sure these are nice and tight. Can't have any cheating, you know."

Booth looked down at the rope with concern. "How are we supposed to get this off afterwards?"

Jim smiled, putting the finish touches to the binding. "I've yet to tie a knot that I can't undo." He stood up again, saying cheerfully, "I'll be round at the finish line to help you."

 _Phase 9: Ensure that he isn't._

As quickly as he had come, Scoutmaster Jim departed, leaving a tinselled Booth and winged Brennan standing at the start line, next to a host of somewhat less decorated parents. Turning to Parker, Booth instructed with a smile, "Go and wait for us by the finish line, okay, bub? Stay by the red post and I'll come get you when this is over."

Parker nodded, the towel sliding over his eyes as he said enthusiastically, "Good luck, Daddy! Good luck, Dr Brennan!"

As he ran off, with the hair and gait of an excited cocker spaniel, Booth turned to Brennan, speaking guiltily, "Sorry about this, Bones. He shouldn't have asked you to do this; it was unfair."

To his surprise, she smiled and said with a shrug, "Well, his dad already made me wear fairy wings, so I guess I know where he gets his demanding streak from."

Booth raised his eyebrows, saying with mock insult, "Are you saying I'm a bad role model?"

"Yes," she replied teasingly, her smile widening.

He chuckled. "You know, I would kick your ass in this race for saying that, but since we're tied together, it's going to be kind of difficult."

She looked up at him with a knowing smile. "So let's kick everyone else's ass."

 _Phase 10: Watch the two most competitive people in the world win the three legged race. Keep fingers crossed that they don't inflicted any injuries on other competitors as they do it._

Before Booth could reply, the starting (jingle) bell rang and the throng of parents surged forward, stumbling and laughing as they went. Booth and Brennan found their stride quite quickly, with him learning to keep his paces shorter to match hers while she soon worked out how fast he walked and was able to follow. They were soon at the head of the pack, and even managed to quicken their pace to a light, if wobbly, jog, moving along the makeshift track with their arms around each other for support and balance.

Parker's cheering could be heard as they approached the finish line, and when they crossed it in first place, the boy came barrelling into them, hugging their legs as he yelled happily, "You won! You won!"

Mildly out of breath, Booth ruffled his hair affectionately and said with a teasing tone, "What, did you doubt your old man?"

"Nuh-uh." The boy shook his head vehemently, looking up at his dad with a proud grin. "I knew you'd win."

Booth was about to tease him further, when Zach's best Santa voice resounded from the speakers again.

"Santa Claus will be at his Grotto in five minutes. Come and hear him read a Christmas story and then, if you've been good, you can tell him what you want in your stocking this year. Ho ho ho!"

 _Phase 11: Remind Zach of the perils of hammy acting. Follow the race with the appearance of Santa (not Zach this time) in order to distract Parker so that the adults can celebrate victory, Christmas or whatever the hell else they want, by kissing._

"Daddy-"

Pre-empting the question, Booth said with a smile, "Yes, Parker, you can go see Santa. Go sit in the Grotto and I'll be right there when Dr Brennan and I get untied. We'll pick up the Transformers on the way out."

"Thank you, Daddy." Parker gave him a final thigh hug before racing off through the crowds towards the bright lights of Santa's Grotto, trying to think of something he could possibly want for Christmas now that his dad had already got him the Transformers.

Booth watched him go, before turning back to Brennan and adjusting his wonky halo as he spoke, "So where did the rope guy go?"

Temperance looked round, answering absently, "I think I saw him go towards the egg-nog stall..." She trailed off as realisation dawned on her. "Oh." Scrutinising the blue rope, she concluded, "I don't think we can break it without a knife, but I might be able to undo the knot."

Having more faith in her nimble fingers than in his larger ones, Booth stepped back, giving her better access to the rope as he said, "Go for it, Bones."

Crouching, somewhat unsteadily, by the knot, she pulled experimentally on different bits of the rope, but all of them seemed to make the knot tighter rather than looser. After almost a minute of tugging and two broken nails, she stood up again, deciding to try a different tactic.

"Maybe if I..."

She held on to Booth's arms as she spoke, and slipped her shoe off, before trying to slide her foot out from the bindings. She managed to rotate it, so that it was pointing in the opposite direction to Booth's, but any further moment seemed futile. Sighing, she returned to a firm standing position, saying in defeat, "We're stuck."

He smiled down at her with an optimistic shrug. "I could think of worse people to be tied to."

She looked back up at him in surprise, a small smile on her lips at his words. They both suddenly became very aware of their proximity, with their legs pressed together from the tie around their ankles, and their bodies only inches apart.

Meeting her eyes, Booth spoke, his tone grateful and sincere, "Thanks for doing this, Bones. It means a lot to Parker." He paused, as though uncertain about his next words, then added quietly, "And to me."

"You're welcome," she replied, equally quietly. "After all, isn't this what Christmas is supposed to be like? Family, and presents, and tinsel..." She reached up and playfully brushed the tinsel on his head, watching how it glittered in the dim winter sunlight.

Booth smiled. "Yeah, but I don't think three-legged races generally fall under the list of age-old Christmas traditions."

She looked up at him with genuine curiosity. "Well, what does?"

Running through years of happy memories, he listed slowly, "There's egg-nog, Christmas trees, mistletoe..."

Brennan looked up as if in thought. "Hmm. We're surrounded by Christmas trees at the moment, so that just leaves mistletoe and egg-nog." She glanced round, while Booth's eyes remained fixed on her, almost not daring to hope where this was going.

Her gaze returned to him, and she said, softly, "There's egg-nog over there, but while we're here, maybe we should..."

"Take care of the mistletoe?" Booth replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, watching their breath mingling in the cold air as she whispered in reply, "It only seems fair."

Their eyes locked for a moment longer, before closing at the same time as their lips met. The kiss itself was chaste, merely a touching of lips, but it was enough. They both instinctively moved in closer to each other, Brennan's hands holding Booth's upper arms while his hands rested on her hips. As gently as it had started, the kiss ended, and they pulled apart, each feeling the warmth of the other's heavy breaths on their cheeks.

Unsure of what to say, Booth stammered, "Bones, that was..." He looked up briefly, searching for a word to describe the experience, but found something else entirely. Looking back at her, he said in surprise, "There's no mistletoe." His brow wrinkled in confusion. "But why- Why did you kiss me if there was no mistletoe?"

She smiled and said simply, "Because you didn't look for any."

Her happiness was contagious and a grin spread across Booth's face too, as he leaned in again, drawing her into another entirely mistletoe-free kiss.

 _Phase 12: Squeal._


End file.
